


Discount

by whittler_of_words



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alien Invasion, Alternate Universe - No Sburb/Sgrub Sessions, Blood, Gen, Psychic Bond, Sharing a Body
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-22
Updated: 2015-10-13
Packaged: 2018-02-14 06:49:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2182011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whittler_of_words/pseuds/whittler_of_words
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Amazing summer discount! Get twelve trolls for the price of ONE!!*</p><p>   <span class="small">*Includes two (2) psionics, one (1) animal communer, one (1) mind controller, one (1) chuckle-voodoo clown cultist, one (1) ex-heiress to the throne, five (5) non-psychics with varying abilities, and one (1) mutant troll with nothing and everything to lose. Customer satisfaction not guaranteed.</span></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A big thanks to [inu](seajuju.tumblr.com) for helping me with this story! 
> 
> Also, excuse me as I throw all my praise onto toastyhat for this [GORGEOUS commission piece](http://toastyhat.tumblr.com/post/95402880769/the-commission-for-seajuju-for-a-friend-of-theirs) based on this story's concept! Hopefully the story lives up to expectations.

It’s common knowledge that you, Karkat Vantas, are Her Imperious Condescension’s bitch.

As common as knowledge of you could possibly get, at least, when you’re an Imperial secret. Which is to say, not at all. The limits to your popularity are the resident staff of Battleship Condescension, and even then, you’re only popular in the sense that people full-out cower when you walk by, which stopped being funny ages ago. The novelty of having fully pupated adults trying their hardest to look meek and unthreatening whenever you walked into a room wore off when it finally clicked that this is your life now.

And it’s all your fucking fault.

But it’s better, you remind yourself, are reminded every time )(IC calls for you to give you a new task. It’s better because you can’t hurt anyone else with your poisonous, disgusting blood. You owe the Condesce for that, at least, even if now you are nothing more than a tool.

You will not hurt anyone else with your blood again.

_“Karkitty!”_

Not like you hurt your friends.

“What, Nepeta,” you mutter under your breath, standing at attention by the huge, ornate doors. You don’t miss how the guards shift not-so-subtly away from you.

_“What do you think she has for us this time?”_

You think you could almost see her, out of the corner of your eye, but you know it’s a fruitless effort. You can only ever see them for real if Aradia is hitching with you, and you try not to needlessly use any of them like that. Even if it would be nice.

“I don’t know. Another stealth job, probably.”

_“Yes!”_

You feel your lips twitch up a little in amusement at her excitement, and the guards shift away even further. Wow. It’s not like they can try to be less like snivelling wrigglers.

Although, it’s not like you can blame them. If you heard there was a troll who literally had lethal, poisonous blood, and talked to people who weren’t there, you would avoid the fuck out of them, too.

Finally, you hear the “Come in, guppy!” you were waiting for, and you ignore the guards as you step through the door, into the Condesce’s throne room.

She grins as you kneel on one knee before her, and you stand when she says, “Cut it out, guppy, I got a job for ya.” Her legs are crossed, one footing moving to a beat you can’t hear. “There’s a planet that my Asterrorists say is at the right conditions for a hospitable cavern for a Mother Grub. Problem is, the planet’s already infested with a bunch’a aliens, and I can’t just blast ‘em out of the sky like I usually do, you carp? My only option is to send a couple flaysquads down there to get the job done right. You’re gonna go with them.”

You nod, contemplating what she’s just said. A possible place for a new Mother Grub? Those don’t come by very often. No wonder she wants you on that job so badly.

“Rememba where your loyalties lie, guppy,” she says, examining her nails. “I’m trustin’ you ‘cause I know you got your little fronds. An’ if you don’t come back here, you’ll just end up killin’ others just like you krilled them. I don’t think you want that, right?” You swallow and nod when she looks up at you. She smiles as she curls her nails into her palm. “I’m just lookin’ out for you, buoy. Now go get ready. You leave tomorrow evening.”

You rub the small scar where it lay on your palm as you spin on your heels and leave the room.

You’ll go out there, get the job done as quickly as possible, and be back before you can somehow manage to fuck up once again.

Simple as fucking that.

\- -

You stalk through the forest of the unfamiliar planet, weaving through the trees as silently as you can manage. Nepeta is helping you a little; you can feel her influence in where and how you step, the way she smooths out your movements. It’ll make this part of the job easier, at least.

Find the aliens, and kill them.

It should be easy. With the ample flaysquads the Condesce sent on-planet in conjuction with you, the planet should be free to inhabit within days. There aren’t too many aliens, as far as anyone could tell, and what few occupy this planet are packed together into one, localized area.

They should know you’re here by now. It’s kind of hard to miss the fucking spaceships dropping down onto the planet. You’re going for the careful approach, unlike the straight-out attack the flaysquads will employ, trying to find any of the aliens that are on the outskirts of the settlement.

There.

They’re oddly brown-skinned, instead of natural grey, with no horns that you can see. Is that fucked up or what. They look like they’re on their way out of the hive you can see just past them, rushing to get somewhere. To safety, probably.

You can’t have that.

You slink closer, reaching for your sickles. You’re almost in reach for the first one. Closer...closer...

When you finally get your chance, you lash out. You are not prepared for what happens next.

Red. Screaming. Red everywhere. You jump back, out of immediate reach of any weapons, and for a moment you are terrified, because that’s _your_ red, _your_ hateful fucking red getting all over the place, making this alien scream from pain as its friends form a circle around it, weapons out and ready--

Until you realize that it couldn’t possibly be yours, despite the color screaming assault against your ganderbulbs. 

The aliens bleed the same color as you do.

You can’t--

You’re going to be sick.

“ _Vriska,_ ” you bark, your mouth dry, and your hand flies to your temple of its own accord. You can feel her struggle with the aliens’ strange pans before she finds hold on something, and they all sway and drop. You don’t check to see if they’re dead or just unconscious.

You run, back to the forest you came from, and you don’t look back.


	2. Chapter 2

You knew there was more to your blood than its repulsive mutant shade. You knew it from the night you got into a fight with the wriggler in the hive next to yours, when he started screaming the moment your blood touched his skin. You had to cull him because he knew your secret, but part of you suspected that he would have died whether you’d introduced your sickle to his throat or not.

You were always so, so careful after that. It wasn’t enough.

You and all of your friends were getting together, because conscription was coming up and all of you were worried for some reason or another. At least half of you were cull-bait, and the other half was quadranted to said cull-bait, and it would have been one of the last times all of you could see each other again. Alive. Whole.

You were in charge of the food, because the get-together took place in _your_ hive for some grubshittingly stupid reason. You noticed when you cut yourself on your hand with the knife. You didn’t notice your blood get into the food like the most morbid of fucking poisons.

You knew there was more to your blood. You were just never aware of how _much_ more to it there was.

\- -

You’re a coward. Eridan makes sure to let you know this.

_“They’re just a bunch’a shitty aliens, Kar, so what if their blood is the same! Do I need to remind you what will happen to us if you don’t do what she wants?”_

“No.” You’re pacing back and forth, under the cover of the forest. You wipe the back of a hand against your forehead and it comes away slick. Gross. And Equius isn’t even the one responsible this time.

_“Because at this rate she’s gonna think you’re goin’ against her orders, and I don’t wanna die again--”_

“I know, I fucking know, alright?! You’ve made sure to tell me literally _every time_ she sends us out!” Except this time he actually has cause to, because of you running away like a wriggler scared of its own shadow. Your pacing increases.

_“Then, what? Do you even have a plan for what you’re gonna do now?”_

“I don’t need one,” you snap. “I’m the fucking _Toxicant_ , remember?”

Eridan scoffs. _“How could I forget?”_

You wince, despite yourself, and the rhythm of your pacing skips a beat before it resumes. Asshole. He could at least try to help instead of just making you feel like the biggest heap of manure in the galaxy. He’s caught up in this whole shit-fest, too.

But, again. Your fault.

Damn it.

“Fine,” you snarl, taking up your sickle from the ground where you’d thrown it earlier. “Let’s go kill some shitty aliens.”

\- -

You can’t kill the shitty aliens.

You have the perfect opportunity. There’s a small group of them, sweeping through the outskirts of the forest, dressed in the alien equivalent of combat gear and armed to the teeth. You could kill them right now. One flash of Aradia’s psionics, a few hits with your sickles, and you could kill them.

The only problem is you can’t quite seem to make yourself move.

Well, you’re moving plenty. Stalking them as they slowly go deeper into the forest. Every time you think about jumping forward, separating an alien’s head from its neck, suddenly all you can see is red and you feel sick again. It’s fine, though. The longer you wait, the farther they go into the forest, the easier it’ll be. All according to plan.

Yeah.

_“Vantas. Stop with this foolishness and cull these inferior creatures at once.”_

“I’m working on it,” you hiss.

_“‘Working on it’ would imply that you’re taking some form of action. All you’ve been doing is stalling.”_

Equius is right. But like fuck are you going to admit that.

“Such _strong_ words for the grubfuck who’s not doing anything about it, either,” you growl, quietly enough that the aliens won’t hear you. 

_“Very well.”_

No. “Wait-”

Equius knocks you out of control of your body the same way he does everything else: STRONGLY, and with great haughtiness. You start fighting against him the second you realize what he’s doing, but he’s high enough on the hemospectrum that you might as well just be banging ineffectually on the locked door to the control room of your body. A room which Equius is currently now _in_ , and the thought of what you know he’s planning on doing makes you want to scream.

Equius steps out from where you’d been hiding, and the closest alien, far enough away from the others that they don’t notice you yet, whips around at the sound of plant matter crunching under feet.

You have just enough time to see, in the reflection in the alien’s helmet’s visor, that your eyes are colored in a pure, highblood blue.

Equius snaps the alien’s neck.

The other aliens regroup instantly -- they must be communicating somehow, maybe through the helmets -- drawing weapons that you recognize as guns, for all that they’ve been made by alien hands. Eridan shoves Equius out of control of your body with all the grace of someone trying not to die, and draws the pistol at your waist with the speed that only a seadweller can manage. _Fink fink fink fink_ \-- with four muted clicks, the rest of the aliens drop before they can fire a single shot.

“Fuckin’ hell, Eq!” Eridan relaxes from his shooting stance, clicking the gun back into its holster as he uses your mouth to talk. You’ve gotten used to the sound of your voice being mangled into a seadweller accent. Barely. Fucking highblood assholes. “Maybe a little bit of warnin’ would help next time!”

_“My apologies, highblood.”_

“Yeah yeah.” Eridan kicks the corpse of the alien still at your feet. “I swear, if it weren’t for me you’d all be dead an’ double-dead by now. Hey Kar.” He pauses. “Kar.” Oh, what, is he going to let you speak now? Fuck that. You stay silent. He scoffs. “Give me the silent treatment all you want, I’m not the one you should be pissed at. I just wanna make sure you’re not gonna spew everywhere the second I step off.”

_How kind of you,_ you snap, shoving as much of a mental eye-roll into the statement as possible. _Just give it up already, Eridan. I’m fine._

“You’re fine. That’s why you’ve been runnin’ this whole time, oh of course.”

_Eridan._

“Alright, fine. You’re the boss here.”

You manage to stay on your feet when he lets go of his control. You bite down on the bile rising in the back of your throat, not wanting to prove Eridan right.

Trying not to look at any of the corpses, you turn around, putting the bloody scene behind you. 

You can’t kill the aliens.

You won’t.

And you refuse to let your friends do so, either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm uploading chapters the second that the next chapter is finished, which gives me the opportunity to fix mistakes and keep continuity more easily and such. Notice that I just started school again (boooooo) and as the chapters get longer (which they are!!) update times may slow down a little. W o o p s.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Think you can get me out of here?” You barely breathe out the words, but it still feels too loud in the quiet. You get an impression of what might be Aradia’s smile.
> 
> _“Yes. But the chances of you getting out unnoticed using psionics are diddly squat.”_

The first step you take in your private little mutiny is ceasing all outward communication. Not that there was much in the first place; as a mysterious, generally dangerously-regarded weapon of the Empire, trolls tend to avoid you unless it’s a matter of life of death, and sometimes even then. Still, you break the small headpiece that lets you keep in contact with other trolls on the same signal and leave the pieces of it behind.

You would have kept it. You’re not so stupid that you don’t see the advantage of keeping tabs on the positions of the other flaysquads.

The only problem is, after just a _night_ of your assault, voices begin to go silent one by one.

You only listen in long enough to hear garbled shouts about alien reinforcements before you make the decision and crush the earpiece under your boot. A part of you feels guilty about leaving those flaysquads out there to die, that you’re sacrificing soldiers of your own people just because you’re too much of a coward to kill these-- these _humans_ , but you just. You can’t. So you take the weaker route and let Terezi convince you that prioritizing yourself is the most advantageous tactical choice. Tactic for what, you don’t ask.

This was supposed to be _easy._

Of course, in your efforts to get as far away from the aliens as possible, you manage to stumble upon a fucking human assault station of some kind. You thought that with Vriska on your side you were supposed to have _aaaaaaaall_ the luck.

You assume it’s an assault station. You don’t see what else it’s supposed to be; a hive out in the middle of fucking nowhere with fortified windows and several watch stations. Maybe a guard post or something, you don’t know. Whatever the case, the second you find it you make a note of its position and get the fuck out of there, praying to every possible god that it’s unoccupied.

You’re not really sure why you ever thought that would work.

You pant from your position high up in the tree, trying to stay quiet even from your spot several dozen feet above the ground. You hear the crack of a branch somewhere below you and freeze.

_“The blue and green aliens are still close to the hive,”_ Aradia whispers. _“The purple one is nearby. The red one’s position is unknown.”_

Damn humans. 

“Think you can get me out of here?” You barely breathe out the words, but it still feels too loud in the quiet. You get an impression of what might be Aradia’s smile.

_“Yes. But the chances of you getting out unnoticed using psionics are diddly squat.”_

Shit. You were hoping she wouldn’t say that.

Those same humans have been tracking you ever since they somehow picked up on your trail. It’s barely been a week and you’ve had to shake them off three times already. You quickly began to identify them by the colors on the details of their uniforms, and no matter how much you try to keep your distance they just seem to keep on. Fucking. Finding you.

Fucking fantastic.

“Tavros, can you tell me the red one’s position?”

A moment of silence. _“If they’re around at all, none of the animals in the area, have seen them. Or, heard, or smelled or anything.”_

_“Teach ‘em a lesson with chucklevoodos,”_ Gamzee says. He’s not bothering to be quiet, and even though you know no one else can hear him but you, you still wince. _“Motherfuckers won’t know what hit them.”_

You hesitate. Gamzee’s chucklevoodos are always your last resort; they’re hard to control and just downright terrifying to use, which you guess is the point, but. If this drags out any longer... “I might have to.” You resist the urge to sigh, weighing your options. “Terezi?”

She’s been hanging close this entire time, and you close your eyes as she shadows you, letting her senses override yours. The world fades and blooms into bursts of smells and tastes on the back of your throat. Mint, chocolate and mud, cotton candy. Trees and earth and sky.

You only catch the slightest whiff of licorice before you jerk to the side.

Not a moment too soon; a muted thud and the tang of iron tells of a sword where you’d been just a second before. (You hope the sword gets stuck.) Unfortunately, in your efforts to escape a sudden hole in your gut, the only place to go

is _down._

You let Terezi take over completely as you fall; she knows what she’s doing. Somehow she makes your body twist so that you can roll with the fall instead of ending up with a broken appendage, and you use the momentum to get back on your feet before you can get caught off-guard.

You don’t wait around for them to strike. You run, eyes still closed, trusting your other senses to warn you of any oncoming attacks more than your sight. If you can get to where the trees are thicker, you’ll be able to lose them, or at least lay low until they move on. You duck under a low-hanging branch, trying not to stay still for any longer than necessary, and smell something...

Odd.

You grin. Those sly sons of bitches.

The plastic deceit of the tripwire cuts through the other smells ahead, and you count at least two-- no, three, stretched taught and placed where they won’t be seen until it’s too late. You’re moving too fast to stop in time to avoid tripping and eating shit, and even if you did you’d just be making yourself vulnerable to an attack. 

Amateurs.

You don’t slow down, instead speeding up as you raise two fingers, and the hum of psionics that gather in your palm is almost immediate as Sollux joins in. A quick flick of your fingers and the wires are cut and made useless. Seriously, how stupid do they think you are? 

The water balloons that burst right on top of your head are a bit of a surprise. 

The effect is immediate: within seconds, you’re drenched, and seconds after that you’re overwhelmed by a cacophony of smells, lavender and peppermint and gasoline so intense that it’s all you and Terezi can do to screech in unison as you careen into a tree. For a few agonizing seconds your entire world is a painful smear of smells so strong you gag. The relief that comes when you shove Terezi away makes tears prick at the corner of your eyes, but you don’t have the time to let yourself recover; the human has to have caught up by now. You stumble completely upright and quickly press your back to the trunk of the tree, cracking open your eyes against the liquid dripping from your hair.

The red human’s helmet reflects the light of this planet’s moon as they twirl their sword in a casually showy gesture. Looks like they managed to get it back from the tree. Oh boy. 

You force your breathing to deepen, trying to catch your breath (and maybe a little embarrassed that you’re practically heaving for air while the alien looks completely unruffled). Fuck. Okay. You can still get out of this easy. You’re about to covertly uncurl your fist into Sollux’s cue, before you remember.

The gasoline.

You barely manage to keep yourself from shouting obscenities. Drenched in fuel and god knows what else, a single spark of psionics and you’ll go up in flames. Fucking. _Fuckers._

No. No, okay, you can still get out of this. You don’t want to kill the aliens, it’s kind of why you’re in this mess (which would be made easier if these aliens understood that, but whatever.) But you’ll kill the shit out of this one if there’s absolutely no alternative. Which is quickly looking to be the case.

You glance at your side, ready to call Eridan to use his marksmanship, but your fucking gun is gone.

Barely a moment of disbelief has passed before your attention goes back to the alien as you see movement, and when you see what they’re holding, you hiss. Your gun, propped up against their shoulder, the alien’s weight shifted to one leg in a show of smug nonchalance. The gun must have gotten out of its holster somehow when you fell. And of course the alien picked it up.

That’s it. That’s fucking it. You are calling out all the stops. Time to bring some motherfucking chucklevoodoos up in this shit. This bulgecrunching alien fuckhead will regret the day they didn’t just let you go.

You bare your teeth in a grin, take a step forward, snarl out Gamzee’s name, and 

 

 

wake up on your back.

...What the fuck.

_“Don’t move,”_ Terezi says, and you freeze in the middle of trying to sit up. After so long of being in a forest, the whiteness of the block (block, you were in a forest, why are you in a block oh god) screams assault against your ganderbulbs. You screw your eyes shut and try not to hyperventilate. _“You’re currently handcuffed to a bed in a locked block inside of the four aliens’ hive. While you were distracted by Tomato Grubsauce’s nasty little trick, Eggplant Cruelaid managed to knock you out cold. Good going on that by the way, Karkles.”_

Fuck. The purple alien. You forgot all about them. _Stupid_. You open your mouth to ask about the other aliens but Terezi continues over you before you can speak, and you’re grateful for that as she explains.

_“Grubsauce and Green Apple are both out doing alien things but Eggplant and Blueberry Delight are waiting for you to wake up from your little nap. One or both of them will come to introduce themselves once they realize you are, in fact conscious. So!”_ You can practically hear her grin. _“Karkat. What will you do?”_

Wait a minute. You know that tone. You don’t bother with speaking out loud. _You already have a plan, don’t you?_

She cackles. Figures that she’d be excited about this. _“Of course. In fact, this will actually be quite enjoyable! All we have to do...”_ She takes hold fast enough that there’s no chance of you shaking her off; her metaphorical talons digging into your mind might as well not be metaphorical at all as she sits up with your body. The handcuff on your left wrist keeping you tethered to the bed clinks with the movement. “...Is play a game,” she finishes, using your mouth, and the grin that splits over your face is not your own.

You have a feeling this isn’t going to be fun for you at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not dead I promise.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part of you is starting to get impatient and wanting the humans to hurry the fuck up already, and the other half is hoping that they won’t show up at all, so you can at least find a way out of here. Even if you did manage to convince Terezi to let go of her control, you doubt you could blast your own exit without the risk of setting yourself ablaze with all the gasoline still soaked into your uniform. It’s (mostly) dry now, but. You don’t want to risk it.
> 
> Terezi doesn’t flinch when the door on the other side of the block clicks, and opens.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” Terezi calls, swinging your legs over the side of the bed until you’re sitting up fully. She doesn’t make to stand, instead just musing under her breath. “I’ll bet you three days of air time they won’t even notice.”

_Notice **what?**_

She hums instead of answering, swinging her legs back and forth, which just highlights the fact that your feet don’t quite touch the floor. Fucking hell, would it kill her to be a little serious about this? It’s only, oh, your life and all of your friends’ collective existences that are at stake here. No biggy! Terezi continues humming as the minutes pass, which you decide to say nothing about even though you’ve asked her countless times to not, because hearing her do that with your voice is just downright embarrassing. 

A few minutes pass like this. Part of you is starting to get impatient and wanting the humans to hurry the fuck up already, and the other half is hoping that they won’t show up at all, so you can at least find a way out of here. You still smell pretty horrible, although not strongly enough that Terezi is noseblind. It’s still fucking disgusting. Even if you did manage to convince Terezi to let go of her control, you doubt you could blast your own exit without the risk of setting yourself ablaze with all the gasoline still soaked into your uniform. It’s (mostly) dry now, but. You don’t want to risk it. And sure, you still have plenty of other options that don’t involve the risk of suddenly finding yourself on fucking fire, but the lack of psionics in your potential arsenal only serves to set you on edge. 

Terezi doesn’t flinch when the door on the other side of the block clicks, and opens.

You recognize the blue and purple aliens by their uniforms, but the lack of their helmets give you pause. The purple one’s hair is a faded echo of the vibrant highblood purple of their eyes. The one behind her also has eyes the same color of their uniform’s details. At least their hair is a normal black. Their mouth keeps twitching like they’re fighting a smile. Yeah, laugh it up, asshole. 

“Sleep well?” the purple human asks, and Terezi grins where you would’ve given a blank stare.

“Never better!” Terezi answers. “Nice annunciation, by the way. Been speaking Alternian long?”

“One could say so,” they say casually, but don’t elaborate further. Terezi takes the hint. For now.

“I must give you props on your employment of the scent bombs. Very clever.”

“Thanks!” The blue alien grins, and continues on in Alternian just as fluent as the purple alien’s. “It took forever to get that set up right. Do you know how hard it is to fill water balloons without getting a drop on the outside?”

“Extremely, I’d assume,” Terezi answers, a little dryness creeping into her tone. The blue human nods their head in assent, but the purple human speaks before they can say anything else.

“I am Rose Lalonde,” they say, their words clipped and professional in comparison to their previous tone. The change is notable and pointed: now is when shit gets serious. “And this is my colleague, John Egbert.” The blue human gives a quick little wave. “We and our other two teammates were deployed here in response to reports of a sudden and unprompted attack by your species. Our job is to assess the situation as accurately as possible.”

“You want intel,” Terezi says, filling in the blanks, and if either of the humans are surprised by the (probably correct) assumption, neither of them show it. “That’s why you haven’t killed me yet.”

“Correct,” Rose says. 

“And if I don’t wish to supply this intel?”

 

“Then we can not allow you to leave.”

“I see.” Terezi’s mouth twitches up in a smile, even though no one else gets the joke. Her next words are louder, almost making her voice echo throughout the block. “Well, that settles that, then!” She leans back on the respite platform. “Thank you for the information, Creulaid. And the cozy block. Your hospitality, it’s touching.”

That’s enough to give the blue alien pause, and they blink, but Rose merely gives you a cool look. They give _Terezi_ a cool look, more accurately, but you still can’t help but feel like it’s _you_ they’re staring down. It’s unsettling. “We at the United Galaxies only offer the best.” Their smile is nothing like the one Terezi has been giving them and their partner all this time -- their mouth is closed, for one -- but the sentiment is much the same. “You can expect another visit when the other two return. Perhaps we can discuss this all a bit more in-depth then. I trust that’s acceptable?”

Terezi nods thoughtfully, making a show of thinking it over. That Rose’s tone made it very clear you don’t really have a choice doesn’t seem to matter to her. “Very well. I look forward to the exchange.”

You have much to think over when the two finally make their leave, Rose nodding graciously while John gives you an odd sort of bemused look, backing out of the block together. 

First there’s the issue of of them knowing Alternian in the first place -- and you might as well just assume that the other two aliens are fluent while you’re ahead. It’s not so much them knowing the language as much as it means _they’ve dealt with trolls before_. They’ve dealt with trolls before, enough to glean a working understanding of Alternian Common and then _came back from it_. But that could only mean that at least one troll was, what, working with them? Helping them? No, you refuse to believe it. There’s absolutely no way that any member of your species would be panshatteringly stupid enough to help out an enemy.

Unless... it was less on an individual basis and more of a sweeping one? Fuck. It’s possible. Prisoners of war are still, in fact, a thing, and considering your own position you’re guessing it’s way _more_ than possible that the humans managed to capture a troll and get them to spill their guts. Figuratively or literally. It’s up for debate.

(But then there’s the matter of _how_ exactly they managed to get the troll(s) in question to spill said guts. Torture? Hm. Or one of them’s a psychic, maybe, no need to learn it the long way when you can lift the info directly from the poor bastard’s thinksponge. Wait, no. If that was the case then they wouldn’t need to be “talking” to you, unless that’s...actually what they meant by “more in-depth” haha oh fuck.)

It hits you, then, just what you’ve gotten yourself into here. There’s no way they could’ve attained a prisoner of war without being in a war, which is. Fucking impossible. It’s not that you can’t believe they’ve gone up against the might of the Empire; it’s a god damn empire, clashing with other species in the great effort of expansion is an entire part of it. It’s the thought of them going up against the Empire and _living_. It’s entirely unprecedented. And surely if that was the case then )(IC would have given you a horns-up, like, hey, the aliens I’m sending you off against are actually standing resisters against the Empire, because that’s totally important information for you to know when you’re fighting them, absolutely. 

She probably just forgot, though. Yeah. 

Fuck.

The implications of all this would be making you dizzy if Terezi wasn’t still in control. She’s lying back on the bed as it is, the ceiling of the block leaving the aftertaste of vanilla on your tongue. One of her claws is tapping absently against her arm -- your arm -- as if in thought. No doubt she’s already figured this all out in half of the time it took you to move along with your own mental bitchfit. 

“We should stay here,” she says, in answer to a question you haven’t even asked yet, “see what they have to say.”

You can’t even say anything for a moment. _What. Are you out of your fucking **mind**? Did those scent bombs, perhaps, scramble up your thinkpan into a permanent tangle of “get us all killed by the weird aliens we know nothing about”? How in the hell is that something even remotely related to a good idea?!_

She rolls her eyes, rolling over to face the wall as she whispers. You’d bristle if you could. “I’m sure your pan was already a lost cause without the aliens’ help. Staying would give us an opportunity to learn about them. I’m guessing you can see why getting a possible advantage on them is something that’s in everyone’s best interest, especially if they’ve been anything close to an issue for the Empire.” She taps the wall instead of her arm this time, humming curiously at its texture. “Unless you’d rather escape and go back to the Condesce with nothing but empty claws and a planet still full of aliens.”

...You hate it when she has a point. But no one ever said that was reason enough for you to stop being a stubborn piece of shit. _So, what. Do the others just not have a say in this?_

“We already discussed this, actually!” Wait, what. “While you were taking a nap. And majority rules.” She’s smiling, stretching out the muscles in your face. God. Fuck damn shit you hate this, hate them, why does this all have to be a thing. Except you know exactly why.

You’d be lying, though. To say you weren’t at all interested about these strange people and their shared blood. You’d be lying and you’re pretty sure Terezi knows it.

 _Fine,_ you say, even though it’s not. Really. _Whatever. But there’s still one thing I don’t get._

“Hmm?” 

_What did you mean by betting they wouldn’t even notice?_

“Oh, _that_.” She outright giggles into her free hand. Your dismay about this whole situation spikes up about a million Terezi-shaped notches. “That I’m just along for the cherry-scented ride. Looks like those three days are mine, pupa.” She rolls her head nonchalantly, somehow, in a way Terezi Pyrope could only hope to nonchalantly roll it. “And then the rest of them while we’re here belong to everyone else of course.”

What? No, no no, you must’ve misunderstood. She didn’t say what you think she just did. _Excuse me?_

“Unexcused! Inattention is not permissible in my court.” The amusement in her tone lowers to something more serious, stopping your protests in their tracks. “Us cycling through control is the best way to keep them on their toes. Confuse them enough about what exactly is going on and we’ll have one more card in our hand. And the best part for _you_ , grumpy grub, is you won’t even have to lift a finger.” She rolls onto her back, sticking her tongue out to taste the ceiling again. “All you have to do is wait.”

 

And wait you do.

You never claimed to be the most patient troll in the universe, but compared to how long you expected to be left in the block with nothing to do, the almost-hour feels close to no time at all. You were expecting to be made to wait a lot longer, to show you they’re not fucking around and you’re completely at their mercy. You know, the obligatory power displays, blah blah. Thankfully, Terezi hides whatever surprise she might feel at the relative punctuality as the aliens plus two walk into the block.

They introduce themselves as Dave Strider and Jade Harley -- in Alternian, surprise surprise -- and all four of them line up against the opposite wall of the block. Terezi rests her chin on her hand, every line of her body exuding disinterest. It’s a pretty clear message, as far as those go. 

“Is this where we talk?” Terezi lolls her head slightly to the side, inhaling deeply. “Because I’ve been _greatly_ looking forward to it.”

“Jesus,” says Dave, “this guy is even weirder up close, like, god damn. I’m getting the heebie jeebies crawling all up and down my arms and shit.”

“You say such sweet things for a jailer,” Terezi returns, batting her eyelashes. You’d mime gagging if you could. “I watched a porno like this once!”

The worst part, you think, is that you have no doubt she has. 

Dave holds his hands up in a gesture of please stop. You praise the heavens; someone with sense. “Woah now. I know I’m an exquisite piece of ass but I can’t just go around banging any troll who finds himself lusting over my choice physique. I have standards. At least take me out to dinner first.”

Nope. No. You take that back. You’re fucking doomed.

“Butthead,” Jade interrupts, elbowing their side, “no sex jokes with the prisoner! We’re supposed to be the morally conscious ones and stuff!”

“ _Supposed_ ,” Dave answers, employing the ancient art of air quotes. Sarcasm practically drips from their tongue. Terezi smiles.

“Aaaanyway.” Jade rolls their eyes. They turn back to you, big smile on their face, eyes bright. “So, you should definitely tell us your name so we don’t have to call you God-Mod Sue all the time.”

“I have many names,” Terezi drawls, not even stopping to question the nickname. You give a mental snort. Nice one, Pyrope.

“Then perhaps you have an officiated title of sorts?” Rose prompts. “You already have our names. You gain nothing from keeping yours a secret.”

That’s not entirely true, and you don’t doubt they know it. Any of them gaining your name or title could easily give them a lead as to exactly who you are. You, meanwhile, couldn’t go out and ask who any of these assholes are if you wanted to. This entire situation just screams “power imbalance!!!”

“I gain plenty.” Terezi grins. “However, considering the situation, I believe we’re both aware that none of the hands I’ve been so graciously dealt are very favorable.” The handcuffs clink as she shifts, and she nods once, decisively. “The title you’re looking for is the Toxicant.”

“Cool,” John adds, “I was hoping it wouldn’t be anything really creepy or ominous at all, so thanks!”

“Oh, you’re very welcome.” 

“Welp,” Dave says, expression unreadable, “I’m bored already.”

Much as you hate to say it, you couldn’t agree more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welp. it's been a, uh. a while?
> 
> oops.

**Author's Note:**

> For those who are familiar with it and may be confused, this fic is only the distant cousin of Headspace. Same concept, different universes. If you don't know what I'm talking about, no worries. carry on!


End file.
